Monday, November 22, 2010

Mr. M came to the wedding with Roger. Let me get this out real quick...Roger is so many kinds of fine,it's nearly impossible to see anyone else beside the halo that surrounds his divinely crafted features. It's pleasantly distracting. But you know,the problem with the bro code is that him and I will never happen,because Mr. M and I already did. Kinda sucks. Is it...generous...of me to want it-erm,them,all? And evil to wish that in another time,it could be done? Oh well.

I was of course sitting at the front,so I watched him walk in 2 hours late. He then proceeded to start texting me during the service. Yup,when the cameras were focused on everyone in the front. Yes,me included. Fortunately,I had craftily hidden my phone in my bouquet. Hahaha! Hahahahaha! Fie,ye anti-texting-during-formal-stuff gods!

The photo shoot...then the reception. I was generally being a bad bridesmaid and escaping periodically from the bridal party...yes,while the speeches were going on...yes,everyone could see me. And why? To chill with Mr. M. For some reason,I felt the need to be around him that day. No,it wasn't what you think it was. Whatever it is you're thinking.

As he was about to leave,my niece locked the keys in the Mercedes. Which had no spare key. And we didn't have a jack,or any Chuck Norris/Daniel Craig/superhero-who-can-unlock-stuff-with-his-mind capabilities to help us open the door. So we were supposed to get the keys out before my cousins noticed that they couldn't get home. To pile the pressure on,the reception was nearly over and my cousin had a court case the next day...and the briefs he needed were in the car...

Monday, November 15, 2010

Writing that title makes me think of 2 things. First,what is the plural of Mercedes,written? I mean really. And second,remember that episode of Fresh Prince of Bel Air when Carlton,bless his soul,has a fiancee called Mercedes? Priceless. Iiin West Philadelphia,born and raised...

I'm not the biggest fan of weddings,marriages,pre-nuptial agreements ngurarios(sp?)/ayies and/or receptions. Practically the only part of any wedding I'm slightly inclined to is the thought of getting hitched in Las Vegas with a poorly done yet amusing impersonation of Elvis as my officiating priest. Other than that...zilch. )More on that in another post.) So when my cousin decided I should be in his lineup,my cold feet were comparable only to if I was getting married myself. However,in a brief and what turned out to be fatal moment of insanity,I was convinced to be a bridesmaid.

During my lunch with Mr. M,I told him of my bridezilla woes. He laughed indulgently and told me gently to strap on a pair. I pouted until he said, "Can I come?"

In case you were wondering,OF COURSE THERE WAS HESITATION!! That's not a very FWB gesture,is it? And if it's not,then what does it mean? What the hell was Mr. M. trying to say? And did I really want him to see me swathed in layers of pink? (They claimed it was fuschia. Ha.)

"No." "Why?" "Because I'll be in the lineup. You'll barely see me." "I'll bring Roger." "And make him sit through a wedding ceremony? For heaven's sake!" "I want to come." "Well,I don't want you to." "Where is it?" "I don't know and/or I'm not telling you." "I'll just call your cousin and find out." Crap. This situation was rapidly deteriorating,and not in my favor. Why the hell was he so bent on this wedding?

Now,you all know I am Supporter Numero Uno of enthusiastic drug use. Penicillin,Ponstan,Piriton,you name it,I'll endorse it. But sometimes,I'm wrong about drugs. Yes. I just admitted that it is possible for me to be wrong. This happens once maybe every 5 years (euphemism for decade)

The Girls and I were at the club over the weekend. Good times were had all around,and at the end of the night we all bundled into the car. SNK backed it up (the car) into the alley and then another car randomly appeared and refused to budge.

So we ask dude to move his car. He's like no. And moves it closer. We're thinking ok what's dude's plan here...PK gets out of the car to ask him to move back and he just moves it closer...and closer...we're hypeventilating now,and then with one final nudge,dude deliberately hits the bumper.

We got out of the car,but there was no point. Dude was ridiculously drunk and for some reason he felt like he had a point to prove,and he thought he was right. There was no ati making the sot see logic. So we got into the car and drove away.

I could wax lyrical for a while on the evils of idiots who can't handle their liquor. But I've heard it all before,as have you. I'm currently taking comfort in the fact that karma has to exist-either he'll be fired,jailed,**** or I get to meet him in a dark alley. Something's gotta give. Sijui they should only start giving out alcohol if you have a maturity license with past offences and everything? Oh,was THAT the point of the constitution?

Thursday, November 4, 2010

We are our own worst enemies when it comes to justice. Mankind has a tendency to always make a more valiant attempt to keep the other man down than to lift him up. Not only that,we are also more likely to not speak up for our rights,and let injustices pass us by. Which is why ugly history keeps repeating itself.

I was in a jav the other day with my niece DeeDee. We were already irritated that the first mat we had taken dropped us really far from where we were. So now we got onto another one. The condi was trying to put 4 people in the backseat. One of them was a woman with her infant child. DeeDee took one look at them coming our way and said no. She started causing for the condi like why the hell would you do that to people in a jav when there's space for 3,hata kama ni pesa...and wondering why the woman would do that to herself and her child. She made a good point...we should not allow stuff like that to go down.

Jana I was in a jav where I was squished on the condi's seat,with someone else. My rear was pressed against the door,conveniently right at the spot where I had just been injected last week. *sigh* I saw that that jav was full,and I still got into it. I allowed these perpetrators of injustice to continue their reign of terror. *cue theme music* But enyewe I shouldn't have gotten into that mat. But education is a damage,and it was raining. *sigh*

In other news,the manfast is going great,except for one man (whose reign of not so terrible terror I have allowed to continue). The idea is,you don't go on a fast because there's nothing around to eat. You go on a fast so as to maintain control when there is a veritable feast laid out in front of you. Now,the catch is,you can be fine neglecting everything else on the table,except that one dish. You know that dish. The one that you haven't had in ages,and the last time you did you didn't finish...let's just say you and the dish have unfinished business,and seeing it during your fast has you pinning a napkin on and starting a food chant,because it's probably going to get ugly. It is very hard to fast when you're simply not done yet,especially when you're trying to move on to the next course.

Mr. M. was my unfinished business. I could resist all but him. It was even easy to stop with everyone else,or simply not start. Unfortunately...not him. Now with him...with him,I definitely was my own worst enemy. And I couldn't figure out what to do about that. Which I had to soon,because we were having lunch this week. And I felt like a fly,winging my way into the sticky spider's web.